Defeating the World with the Power of One Dragon!

Chapter 168: The Brass Dragon's Parents

The sky gradually brightened into a grayish-blue hue.

Garoth and the White Dragon Trixie flew one after another toward the northern borderlands, approaching the icy plains known as the Permafrost Tundra.

Looking into the distance,

their powerful draconic vision could faintly discern the undulating outlines of glaciers resembling giant serpents, appearing and disappearing intermittently.

Garoth was currently accompanying the White Dragon to her lair.

Reluctant to part with her accumulated wealth of many years, the White Dragon deliberately slowed her flight, delaying the inevitable.

Garoth showed no urgency either, calmly surveying the land below with meticulous scrutiny, personally assessing the borderlands' condition.

Whenever Trixie flew too sluggishly, he'd unceremoniously prod her with his tail or give her a wing buffet as a speed reminder.

As time passed, the temperature dropped sharply—already below ten degrees before reaching the tundra, and even colder at high altitudes where frost particles danced among the clouds.

Entering this environment visibly invigorated the White Dragon."Trixie, you've lived here long enough."

"Besides us, how many other dragons inhabit this region?"

Garoth inquired.

The White Dragon pondered briefly before shaking her head. "Unless hunting for food, I rarely leave my lair. My knowledge of the surroundings is limited."

After a pause, she added, "Though I've spotted Metal Dragon territory from afar."

Garoth: "Silver Dragons?"

Silver Dragons favored cold climates, making them the most likely metallic dragons in these borderlands or tundra.

Though Garoth had never encountered one, ancestral memories unanimously praised Silver Dragons' beauty and strength—comparable to Red Dragons in prowess.

Both shared ice attributes,

but the White Dragon paled in comparison.

"If it's an adult Silver Dragon, at least Life Level 15... I probably couldn't win, but escaping would be effortless with my speed and burst capability."

Garoth mentally calculated.

"Yes, but not just Silver Dragons."

Trixie explained, "A male Silver Dragon and female Brass Dragon, along with their offspring, share a red maple valley."

Garoth considered this. "Do you know their approximate age range or Life Levels?"

The White Dragon shook her head earnestly. "There's a saying—'Kings avoid crossing paths.' We've never directly confronted each other."

Garoth nearly burst out laughing despite his usual emotional control.

Composing himself, he suddenly noticed a noteworthy detail.

"Silver Dragon and Brass Dragon."

"They might be Deborah's parents."

Garoth recalled the Brass Dragon who'd delivered two batches of alchemical tools.

Her artifacts bore distinct draconic craftsmanship, likely made by a dragon alchemist—especially when she'd angrily used that life-saving Spell-Inscribed Scale against the Worm King, unleashing frost damage.

This had long made Garoth suspect Deborah had a Silver Dragon elder.

While Silver Dragons most commonly inhabited tundras, settling in these moderately cold borderlands would be reasonable for a Brass Dragon mate's comfort.

"I must be cautious not to encounter Deborah's parents."

"Metal Dragons value kinship fiercely. They might well bully a younger dragon to avenge their daughter."

Garoth tensed internally.

He wasn't ready to face at least an adult-stage Silver Dragon yet.

"Trixie, where exactly is their territory?"

"That direction, roughly five hundred kilometers away."

The White Dragon pointed northeast, indicating the general location.

As the saying goes—kings avoid crossing paths. Best steer clear for now—the young dragon resolved.

After further flight,

Garoth arrived at the tundra's very edge, halting above a frost-covered mountain of frozen earth.

Temperatures here had dropped below zero; sunlight provided no warmth.

Visible white breath accompanied each exhalation as chill permeated Garoth's scales, causing discomfort.

"Here we are."

"Don't you have any minions?"

Garoth noticed no creatures gathered here.

"Had a few. Ate some when hungry; the rest fled during my Dragon Sleep."

The White Dragon admitted.

A quintessential White Dragon, she lacked management skills—treating minions as emergency rations until her cruel oppression drove them all away.

With obvious reluctance, Trixie landed and pretended to search before finally leading Garoth into her lair—a crude cavern structure.

Thick, hardened ice crystals coated every surface, making Garoth's steps slightly clumsy while the White Dragon moved with feline grace, utterly unaffected.

An adult dragon's aura profoundly influenced its long-term dwelling.

These weren't ordinary ice crystals but manifestations shaped by Trixie's presence.

An Ancient Dragon's habitat could alter not just terrain but elemental composition—like how an Ancient Red Dragon's domain might spawn fire-elemental portals to recruit flame creatures.

Stepping unevenly, Garoth followed to the lair's deepest chamber.

The White Dragon's pained expression preceded her shattering a seemingly terminal wall, revealing a hidden treasure vault.

Unlike its distressed owner,

Garoth's eyes gleamed upon the glittering hoard.

Huuu—he took a steadying breath, suppressing innate greed. "Trixie, I'm impressed. This substantial accumulation changes my opinion of you."

The White Dragon offered a strained, unnatural grin.

Before Garoth lay glittering piles of ice diamonds and white quartz—Trixie's favorite gems—illuminating the dim cave.

Magic gemstones alongside gold and silver coins formed miniature mountains,

far exceeding Garoth's expectations of a White Dragon's wealth, even surpassing his own.

Soon all would be his.

Beaming, Garoth stepped forward and raked the hoard with his claws.

Clatter—his triumphant expression froze mid-smile.

The sliding surface treasure revealed a dismaying truth.

The lower layers comprised merely shiny common ores, meticulously arranged frozen rhino bones, and polished dire wolf skulls as foundation.

Trixie's "wealth" was but a hollow facade.

Pretentious poverty, self-deception included.

"Two centuries of accumulation? Even newly independent juveniles wouldn't pad their hoard with bones."

Garoth remarked.

"You're wealthier then? This is perfectly respectable!"

The White Dragon retorted defiantly.

She refused to believe Garoth surpassed her—until an azure radiance nearly blinded her.

Wordlessly responding to her challenge,

Garoth shook his neck, revealing Sky-Blue Gems concealed beneath his scales.

Their mesmerizing glow made Trixie itch as if ants crawled beneath her scales, her pupils dilating to the point of near-trance as she leaned obsessively closer.

Then—snap—Garoth sealed his scales, extinguishing the glow like a pinched candle.

"Ah! Please! Just one more look!"

The White Dragon begged with tail-wagging eagerness.

"Serve me well, and you'll earn a share of such gems."

Garoth dangled the carrot.

Meanwhile, his massive wings swept unceremoniously across, confiscating all worthwhile loot while leaving worthless remains behind.